by Lora Leigh
“Hell, is it even a cock?” she muttered to herself.
“Of course it is.” She shook her head as she rolled her eyes at such a thought. “Has to be. Please let it be.” Her desperate whimper of feminine arousal would have been laughable under any other circumstances, she thought.
“Fine,” she growled quietly, the sound of her own voice strangely comforting as she tried to work through yet another paranormal upheaval in her life. As though she needed more. “It was definitely a cock. Now, just gotta figure out the antidote before my skin starts shedding like a damned snake.” She was itchy, uncomfortable, and she would be naked if it weren’t for the fact that even oxygen irritated her skin.
“Dragon will bring you skin cloth, I am sure.” The voice echoed from the darkness, causing her to squeal in surprise as she jumped from her chair and turned to face the intruder.
Gryphon stood across from her, his long black hair flowing around his shoulders as he watched her curiously.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” she snapped, grimacing as the pads of her feet protested the feel of the shoes covering them.
“Were you not talking to me?” he asked her with some confusion.
The moon decided to peek from behind the covering of the clouds then, casting a golden ray of light across his face, making his violet eyes glitter eerily. What was with those eyes? Dragon’s seemed to glow as well, like deep, rich mercury.
“No. I wasn’t talking to you.” She tried not to snarl or to flush in embarrassment. “I was talking to myself.”
He frowned. “You do this often then? Talk to yourself?”
“Yeah, I do,” she growled sarcastically. “It’s the only damned way to get a halfway decent answer back.”
He shook his head.
“Speak with Alyx. He is quite intelligent. I’m certain he can assure you he does indeed have a cock.” The droll answer had her gritting her teeth in anger.
“Ha ha.” She sneered. “Go crawl back under your rock now and let me just muddle along on my own.” She flicked her fingers toward the door he had come through.
Shaking his head, Gryphon leaned against one of the beams that supported the roof of the porch.
“Are you always such a disagreeable woman?” he asked her softly, supposedly seriously.
“Yeah. I am.” She sat back in her chair, suddenly weary, suddenly realizing she was just that. Very disagreeable.
“Your brother and the males you work with seem very intelligent as well,” he said gently. “Why do you not speak to them rather than yourself?”
Why didn’t she? Lynn shook her head. “They wouldn’t understand,” she finally sighed. “Hell, I don’t understand it myself.”
She didn’t like change. She didn’t like surprises. The paranormal gifts she lived with daily were often difficult to handle. The emotions and sensory changes that attacked her kept her off balance, her system rioting.
“Sometimes…” Gryphon spoke carefully. She could feel him choosing his words and she hated it. “Sometimes, a soul, a human soul, is given a special gift by one capable of sharing his or her powers. If that human’s physical body dies, the soul retains that gift into the next life. It retains it for a reason. Because the soul of that person knows what their mind often does not.”
Lynn stared up into the sky once again and sighed heavily.
“We would first have to agree reincarnation exists,” she pointed out, though she knew she was already accepting that fact.
“To do that, we would have to forgive a past we do not remember, and yet cannot forgive ourselves for,” he murmured. “All things come full circle, Lynn. Look into the knowledge that allowed you to accept the power reaching out to you. Look into the nightmares you fight and forgive yourself for something you could not change. Then, and only then, will you be able to accept who you are, and the gifts you were given.”
But she had failed. In those nightmare images, that knowledge had remained uppermost. That despite her strength, her training, her loyalty, she had failed. The person she was sworn to protect had died.
“How can you know that?” Her hands gripped the arms of the chair, uncomfortable with the fact that she could feel every bump and groove in the plastic.
He sighed deeply. “One day, you will have the answer to that. But it is an answer you must find within yourself.”
“I don’t believe in reincarnation,” she snapped confrontationally.
His chuckle was warm, amused. “Do you not? Why do you fight it so hard then? Why were you so desperate to cut Dragon with your sharp tongue if you do not believe? Ask yourself this, Lynn. If your visions are based in truth, what then has Dragon suffered?”
His scream echoed through her soul. Lynn flinched, a muted whimper of protest escaping before she could contain it.
“When a warrior gives of himself to his bond mate,” Gryphon continued, “and his bond mate refuses him, a part of his Dragon stone dies as well. It is this stone that sustains him while away from our world. It is his companion until the final ritual between him and his bond mate. His solace. His strength. If that mate is taken from him, then he loses that as well. He either returns forever to our home world, or he suffers the darkness of complete solitude within his soul. Something that no warrior should know.”
Lynn shook her head quickly. “I don’t want to hear this.”
“Why?” His voice was mocking, soft. “It is hard, is it not, to face another’s pain? This is why you curse the very gifts that have saved your life countless times. Because staying apart, holding yourself isolated from the pain of loss, is so very hard when you can sense every emotion in the very air around you. And you would curse Dragon as well, for allowing you the strength to survive those who would have taken you from him again, before he could have found you.”
“You’re wrong.” But there was no heat in her protest. No way to convince others when she couldn’t even convince herself now.
“Perhaps I am.” She grimaced as she felt his shrug disrupt the air.
“Don’t do that,” she snapped before she could stop herself as she felt the disturbance in the air from his movement. She groaned in misery. “How do I stop this?”
“Cease to care,” he told her mockingly. “Is that not what you want anyway, Lynn? Complete disassociation? Or, accept the next gift Dragon will bring you. And the completion of the bond.”
She glanced at him again in surprise. “What do you mean?”
This time, it was Gryphon who shook his head. “Something else you must learn on your own, Lynn. If you are strong enough to care.” It was a carefully worded dare.
Lynn snorted. “Just like a man.”
“Yes.” Smug amusement filled his voice. “Many of us are much alike, no matter the universe which spawned us. Our benevolent God knew perfection when He created it.”
“Oh really,” she drawled. “I hold with the thought that men were the rough draft, women the perfection. He knew He messed up when He made man.”
Gryphon chuckled. “At least you do not deny us the belief of Him. Many would.”
Lynn shrugged. “I’ve heard He works in mysterious ways.” She contained her smile.
“That He does.” Gryphon sighed. “I will leave you, then, to carry on the discussion you were having with yourself. Perhaps if you try honesty, though, the answers might come more easily.”
“You know, Gryphon, I really don’t think I like you,” she said tiredly. “When a man starts making sense, it’s time for a woman to have her own head examined.”
“Or for her to realize it is time to listen,” he suggested instead. “Good night to you, Lady Lynn. Try resting in the bed, in the nude. The silk sheets on your bed are the closest you will get to skin cloth. It could help until Dragon returns.”
“He’s gone?” she asked, surprised.
Gryphon paused at the door into Ariel’s sitting room. “For a while.” His voice was too soft. Too somber. “Just for a while.”
Chapter Fif
teen
It was nearly dawn before the door to her bedroom opened and Dragon entered the dim room. Lynn wasn’t asleep. She was staring at the ceiling, slowly accustoming herself to the sensitivity of her skin and the changes she could sense moving around her. It was as though her very flesh were absorbing the nuances of emotion and psychic energy flowing through the house.
She could feel Ariel’s body healing, the crystal charging. Slowly. Too slowly for her peace of mind. She could feel her brother’s concern. She knew it was him. He was pacing his room, concerned about her, but hesitant to disturb her. She could feel the others as well. Differing emotions, not really clear, but disturbing all the same.
When Dragon stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, she saw the determined set of his shoulders, the cool resolution in his glittering silver eyes, and she knew that the time for any denial was at an end.
She watched him still as he closed the door, his gaze darkening as it went over her naked body. She knew what he was seeing. She was flushed, sensitive. Her breasts were firm, her nipples peaking beneath his gaze. Could he sense her arousal? Had he always sensed his effect on her?
“I won’t regret giving you the power needed to keep yourself safe until this moment.” His voice was hard, chillingly resolute. “It is perhaps not the life you would have wished…”
“Alyx. I’m sorry.” She couldn’t bear to hear the somber pain in his voice. “I was mildly upset earlier. I rarely react well when my flesh starts crawling.”
He moved closer to the bed as he laid some dark material in the chair by the door.
“If I take you, the connection becomes stronger,” he warned her. His silver eyes glowed with lust; his body tightened with it.
She could tell he really wanted to take her. The monster was like a swollen ridge rising from between his thighs, pressing against the strange material of those pants he wore.
“I can’t live like this,” she sighed tiredly. “It was bad enough before, when my own dreams mixed with those of the people around me, creating nightmares I couldn’t hide from. Now I can feel those nightmares, Alyx. I can feel the pain…”
“I can fix this, Lynn.” He stood by her bed, staring down at her.
His gaze was hot enough to send fire flickering over her body. Her nipples engorged further, as though reaching out for him. She wanted to feel his mouth on her. She could feel his mouth on her. She gasped at the sensation of wet heat surrounding the puckered tip.
“You can feel my desires, unless I block them from you.” His voice was wicked carnality. “The things I could do to you, with only a thought, would be more pleasure than you can imagine. But you could do the same to me, Lynn. As your powers mix with mine and begin to develop, control will come. The skin cloth will protect you from others, absorb their impact, store the power for when you would need it. Our life is not as bleak as you would believe it is.”
“You’re changing the rules of my world,” she whispered sadly. “I was just getting used to them, Alyx.”
“Watch.” His voice deepened. Lynn’s eyes widened.
The black clothing he wore seemed to part, as though ripped from his body by an unseen hand, and fell to the floor at his feet. The black shirt that fit perfectly over his muscular chest, the snug pants and soft-looking boots, all gone. Bending down, he picked them up. Lynn’s eyes widened as he held it before her. It was intact. As though he had undressed himself with the greatest of care. He tossed them to the chair.
Lynn made a mental note to question what she had just seen. Later. Definitely later. With his nudity came a tidal wave of sensations that had her arching in exquisite pleasure. Not exactly a physical touch, it was as though need breathed, whispered, and each sigh of longing stroked her flesh.
“Oh God. Have I mentioned I hate the paranormal?” She twisted beneath the psychic caress.
“I believe you may have mentioned this a time or two.” He lowered himself to the bed beside her. “Have I mentioned how much I have longed for you? How I have awaited this day?”
He lay on his side, his hand moving, fingers stroking up her stomach, moving with delicate heat to run around her breast. Lynn’s breath caught. As though his presence blocked any other external waves of power, the only sensations now were those of his touch, his lust.
“I’m going to be upset later,” she assured him with a gasp, her body arching, nearly peaking with pleasure as he blew a heated breath over her turgid nipple. “Much later.”
She didn’t give him time to reply. She turned in his arms, her lips finding his, her moan echoing around her at the banquet of tastes and sensations she found in his kiss.
He took her lips the moment they met his. Oh God. She felt her womb clench as his tongue speared into her mouth, twining with hers, his lips masterful, dominating. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her against the hard muscle of his body, his cock nudging between her thighs as he bent to her.
Oh, yes. This was good. Her hands clenched in his hair as he possessed her mouth. His lips moved over hers with an expertise that left her gasping, begging for more. It was so good. Too good.
Lynn twisted in his grip, her thighs opening for him, hips writhing to press her hungry cunt against the wide head of the monster. He felt so good. So warm and incredibly sexy. And her flesh seemed to eat up every touch of his skin against her. As though the very pores were soaking in the essence of him. She twined her arms tighter around his shoulders, reveling in the feel of strong male muscle and heated sensuality. He stretched along her, covering her body, his elbows holding the better part of his weight from her. She wanted that weight. Wanted him pressing her into the mattress, wanted his skin kissing hers just as his lips were.
She was becoming drunk on the taste of him. Like spiced brandy, hot and intoxicating, his tongue tempted her to take more. To take and take until she could find some sense of satiation. Yet somehow, she knew she never would.
“No,” she whimpered as he pulled away, his lips stroking down her neck, his tongue licking over her skin as he murmured his pleasure.
“Yes,” he growled at her shoulder, his big body shifting as he continued lower. “I want to taste you, Lynn. All of you. I want to know every scent, every flavor of your flesh. I want to devour you, Lynn.”
Her womb clenched at the hard, rough sound of his voice. It was graveled, a raw, primal sound that stroked over her senses like pure sin. Dark and velvety, tempting, addictive.
Lynn licked her dry lips, her hands clenching at his shoulders, back arching as his lips began to trail seductively around the curve of her breast. Rough satin was the only way to describe the feel of his lips as they stroked closer and closer to her nipple. Heated, with just enough friction to remind her they could harden at a second’s notice. The damp warmth of his tongue peeked out, licking over the swollen curve he moved along.
Anticipation heightened every nerve in her body. She was straining toward his mouth before it ever enveloped the hard, throbbing nipple.
“Alyx.” She couldn’t halt her cry, or the reflective jerk of her body as pleasure flayed her from her nipple to her womb.
Her vagina clenched its own hungry demand as her fingers locked in his long hair, holding him tighter to her as he began to suckle the nub of flesh he held. His teeth gripped the tender tip; his tongue stroked it until she was a writhing mass of desperate sensations.
Alyx’s hands weren’t still, either. He held himself above her with one arm, his hand clenched in her hair, holding her still as he tormented her. The other smoothed down her waist, gripped her hip for a second before continuing to her thigh.
He shifted, moving his mouth from one breast to the other, lifting his hard abdomen from between her thighs and replacing it with his hand. Lynn stilled, panting for breath, held suspended on such a rack of intensity she wondered if she would survive it. He was flaming lust, incredible gentleness, and all hard, sensual male.
His fingers parted the swollen lips of her pussy as she fought to breathe. Hi
s tongue licked her nipple with raspy demand, then his fingers were sliding along the silky, cream-filled slit to the hard button of her clit.
She nearly rocketed through the ceiling. Her back arched as a strangled cry tore from her lips. Her hands clenched tighter in his hair as feathery strands caressed the curves of her breasts. Staring down at him, she watched his eyes glow, the outer sapphire ring more striking now than ever before.
His head raised, his eyes still locked with hers.
“There are three phases of bonding,” he whispered. “You have knowledge now. Of who I am. What I am. The power we share as one. When I take you, when your body imprisons mine, you enter acceptance. Where your soul accepts the knowledge it’s been given, just as your body accepts, there can be no pleasure greater than what you find in my arms. The third is completion. Binding us forever, Lynn. You cannot escape the third if you carry through with the second.”
Lynn knew she should have been terrified. She should be screaming. Fighting. She should have left the first day he arrived. But she wasn’t about to lie to herself now. She had already come too far to ever back away.
She bit her lip as his fingers rolled around her clit then. A soft, silken slide of flesh that had her pussy creaming in excessive need, her hips arching for a firmer stroke, an end to the pulsating demand that tormented every cell in her body.
“Too late,” she moaned, her head twisting on the bed. “It’s already too late, Alyx. Please. I can’t stand it much longer. Let the monster have its way or go ahead and shoot me and put me out of my misery.”
He laughed with sinful darkness. “How about I do both?”
He rose to his knees in a fluid, graceful movement that left her gasping. Keeping her legs spread, he lifted them until they draped over his thighs, the lips of her cunt cushioning the hard tip of his cock. But he would go no further. He stared down at her, watching her as she arched her hips, a plea trembling on her lips.
“Touch yourself.” He gripped her hand, lowering it to her straining clit. “Let me see you, Lynn. Let me watch as you pleasure yourself.”